Unrequited Passion
by L Nightingale
Summary: Six months after their breakup, ex-lovers Ichigo and Rukia are back where it all began: alone in his one room condo, far from the reach of civilization. Oneshot. AU IchiRuki. Rated M for Mature teens and over.


**Summary**

Ichigo Kurosaki had finally cornered her; he finally outsmarted her and got her where he wanted. Now he was determined to find out why she left him in the first place and also, to convince her that he is the only man for her.

Rukia Kuchiki couldn't believe she got trapped by him. After half a year of avoiding him and his ploys, she stupidly got herself caught. She was adamant to hold out until her escape in the morning, and no matter how much she felt for him, she was going to leave her clothes on and her dignity intact. But he was the one man who could make her lose control…

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**Warning****: Adult Content  
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**You have been warned.**

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Remember to leave a review! Your thoughts much appreciated.

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**Unrequited Passion**

He was waiting for her, sprawled negligently in one of the chairs, but those amber eyes watched her as intently as a tiger watches its chosen prey.

"Now," he said, "Let's have our little talk."

Her heart lurched in her chest. It strained her composure to walk over to the chairs and sit down, but she did it, even crossed her legs and leaned back as negligently as he.

"Alright." she said calmly.

He gave her that considering look, as if he was trying to decide how to handle her. Mentally she bristled at the idea of being 'handled,' but she forced down her irritation. She knew how relentless Kurosaki could be when crossed; she would need to keep her thoughts ordered, not let him trip her up with anger.

He remained silent, watching her, and she knew what he wanted. He had already asked the question; he was simply waiting for the answer.

Despite herself, Rukia felt a spurt of anger, even after all these months. She faced him and went straight to the heart of the matter.

"I found the file you had on me," she said, every word clipped short. "You had me investigated.

"Ah." He steepled his fingers and studied her over them. "So that's it."

He paused for a few seconds, then said mildly, "Of course I did."

"There's no 'of course' to it. You invaded my privacy-"

"As you invaded mine," he interrupted smoothly. "That file wasn't lying out in the open."

"No, it wasn't. I looked in your desk." She admitted without hesitation.

"Why?"

"I felt uneasy about you. I was looking for some answers."

"So why didn't you ask _me_?" The words were as sharp as a stiletto.

She gave him a wry, humorless smile. "I did. Many times. You're a master of evasion though. I've been to bed with you, but I don't know much more about you than I did the day we met."

He neatly sidestepped the charge by asking, "What made you feel uneasy? I never threatened you, never pushed you. You know I own and run my own company, that I'm solvent and not on the run."

"You just did it again," she pointed out. "Your ability to evade is very good. It took me a while to catch on, but then I noticed that you didn't answer my questions. You always responded, so it wasn't obvious, but you'd just ask your own and your question and ignore mine."

He surveyed her silently for a moment before saying, "I'm not interested in talking about myself. I already know all the details."

"I'd say the same holds true for me, wouldn't you?" she asked sweetly. "I wanted to know about _you, _and got nowhere. But I didn't have you investigated."

"I wouldn't have minded if you had." _Not that she would have been able to find out much, _he thought.

Great chunks of his life after high school graduation weren't to be found on public records.

"Unfortunately for you, _I_ minded,"

"And that's it? You walked out on me and broke off our relationship because you were angry that I had you investigated? Why didn't you just yell at me? Throw things at me? For Christ's sake, Rukia, don't you think you took this a little too far?"

His tone was both angry and incredulous, making it plain that he considered her actions to be nothing short of hysteric, far out of proportion to the cause.

She froze inside, momentarily paralyzed by the familiar ploy of being made to feel that she was in the wrong; that no matter what happened it was her fault for not being good enough. But then she fought the memories back; she would never let anyone make her feel that way again. She had gotten herself back, and she knew her own worth. She knew she hadn't handled the matter well, but only in the way she had done it; the outcome itself had never been in question.

Her voice was cool when she replied. "No, I don't think I took it too far. I'd been feeling uneasy about you for quite a while. Finding out that you had investigated me was the final factor, but certainly not all of it."

"Because I hadn't answered a few questions?!" That incredulous note was still there.

"Among other things."

"Such as?"

Give them an inch, they take a mile. "Such as your habit of taking over, of ignoring my objections or suggestions as if I hadn't even said anything."

"Objections to what?"

Now the words were as sharp as a lash. His amber eyes were narrowed and vivid. A bit surprised, she realized he was angry again.

She waved her hand in a vague gesture. "Any little thing. I didn't catalog them-"

"Surprises the hell out of me," he muttered.

"But you were constantly overriding me. If I told you I was going shopping, you insisted that I wait until you could go with me. If I wanted to wear a sweater when we were going out, you insisted I wear a coat. Damn it, Kurosaki, you even tried to make me change where I bank!"

His eyebrows rose. "The bank you use now is too far away. The one I suggested is much more convenient."

"For whom? If I'm perfectly happy with my bank, then it isn't inconvenient for me, is it?"

"So don't change your bank. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," she said slowly, choosing her words, "is that you want to make all the decisions, handle everything yourself. You don't want a relationship, you want dictatorship."

One moment he was lounging comfortably, long legs sprawled out in front of him; the next he was in front of her, bending over to plant his hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her in place. Rukia stared up at him, blinking at the barely controlled rage in his face, but she refused to let herself shrink from him. Instead, she lifted her chin and met him glare for glare.

"I don't believe it!" he half shouted. "You walked out on me because I wanted you to change banks? God in heaven." He shoved himself away from the chair and stalked several paces away, running his hand through his hair.

"No," she shouted back, "I walked out on you because I refuse to let you take over my life!" She was unable to sit still either, and surged out of the chair.

Instantly Kurosaki whirled those lightning-quick reactions of his, catching her arms and hauling her close to him, so close that she could see the white flecks in the glowing amber of his irises and could smell the hot, male scent of his body. Her nostrils flared delicately as she instinctively drank in the primal signal, even though she stiffened against his touch.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married before?"

The question was soft, and not even unexpected, but she still flinched. Of course he knew; it had been in that damn investigative report.

It isn't on my list of conversational topics," she snapped, "But neither is it a state secret. _If _our relationship had ever progressed far enough, I would have told you then. What was I suppose dto do, trot out my past life the minute we met?"

Kurosaki watched her attentively. As close as they were, he could see every flicker of expression on her face and he had noticed the telltale flinch even though she had replied readily enough.

_Ah, so there was something there._

"Just how far did our relationship have to go?" he asked, still keeping his voice soft. "We weren't seeing anyone else. We didn't actually have sex until that last night together, here in this very room, but things got pretty hot between us several times before that."

"And I was having my doubts about you even then," she replied just as softly.

"Maybe so, but that didn't stop you from wanting me, just like now."

He bent his head and settled his mouth on hers, the pressure light and persuasive. She tried to pull away but found herself powerless against his strength, even though he was taking care not to hurt her.

"Be still." he said against her lips.

Desperately, she wrenched her head away. He forced it back, but instead of kissing her again, he paused with his mouth only a fraction of an inch above hers.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" he murmured, his warm breath caressing her lips and making them tingle. With his typical relentlessness, he had fastened on an idea and wouldn't let it go until he was satisfied with the answer. The old blind fear rose in her, black wings beating, and in panic she started to struggle. He subdued her without effort, wrapping her in a warm, solid embrace from which there was no escape.

"What happened?" he asked, brushing light kisses across her mouth between words. "What made you flinch when I mentioned it? Tell me about it now. I need to know. Did he run around on you?"

"No." She hadn't meant to answer him, but somehow caught in those steely arms and cradled against his enticing heat, the words slipped out in a whisper. She heard it and shuddered.

"No!" she said more forcefully, fighting for control. "He didn't cheat."

If only he had, if only his destructive attention had been diluted in that way, it wouldn't have been so bad.

"Stop it, Kurosaki. Let me go."

"Why did you start calling me Kurosaki?" His voice remained low and soothing, his warm mouth kept pressing against hers with quick, gentle touches. "You always called me Ichigo before, even when we made love."

Her cheeks flushed slightly. She had started calling him Kurosaki in an effort to distance herself from him. She didn't want to think of him as Ichigo, because the name was forever linked in her mind with that night when she had clung to his naked shoulders, her body lifting feverishly to his forceful thrusts as she cried out his name over and over, in ecstasy, in need, in completion. Ichigo was the name of her lover; Kurosaki was the man she had fled.

And Kurosaki was the one she had to deal with now, the man who never gave up. He held her helpless in his grasp, taking kiss after kiss from her until she stopped trying to evade his mouth and opened her lips to him with a tiny, greedy sound. Instantly he took her with his tongue, and the sheer pleasure of it made them both shudder.

His warm hand closed over her breast, gently kneading. She groaned, the sound captured by his mouth, and desperately tried to marshal her resistance. He was seducing her just as effortlessly as he had the first time, but even though she realized what was happening, she couldn't find the willpower to push him away. She loved him too much, savored his kisses too much, desired him too strongly, found too much pleasure in the stroke of those hard hands.

The pressure of his fingers hardened her nipple into a tight nub that stabbed his palm even through the layers of fabric protecting her. He deepened the kiss as he roughly opened the buttons of her blouse and shoved a hand inside the opening, then under the lacy cup of her bra to find the bare flesh he craved. She whimpered as his fingers found her sensitive nipple and lightly pinched at it, sending sharp waves of sensation down to her tightening loins. The sound she made was soft, more of a vibration than an actual noise, but he was so attuned to her that he felt it ass sharply as an electrical shock.

She was limp as he bent her back over his arm and freed her breast from the lace that confined it, cupping the warm mound and lifting it up to his hungry mouth. He bent over her, sucking fiercely at her tender flesh, wild with the taste and scent and feel of her. He stabbed at her nipple with his tongue, excite and triumphant at the way she arched responsively at every lash of sensation.

_She wants me._

He had told himself that there had been no mistaking her fiery response that night, but the six months since then had weakened his assurance. Now he knew he hadn't been wrong. He barely had to touch her and she trembled with excitement, already needing him, ready for him.

He left her breast for more voracious kisses taken from her sweetly swollen lips. God, he wanted her! No other woman had ever made him feel as Rukia did, so completely attuned with and lost within her.

He wanted to make love to her now, but there were still too many unanswered questions. If he didn't get things settled while he had her marooned here, unable to get away from him, it might be another six months before he could corner her again. No, by God, it wouldn't be; he couldn't stand it again.

Reluctantly, he left her mouth, every instinct in him wanting to take this to completion, knowing that he could if he only didn't give her the chance to surface from the drugging physical delight, but he still wanted answers and couldn't wait, didn't dare wait, to get them.

"Tell me," he cajoled as he trailed his mouth down the side of her neck, nibbling on the taut tendon and feeling the response ripple through her. Finally- _finally –_he was on the right track.

"Tell me what _he _did that made you run from _me._"

Frantically, Rukia tried to jerk away, but he controlled her so easily that her efforts were laughable. Nevertheless, she lodged her hands against his heavy shoulders and pushed as hard as he could.

"Let me go!"

"No." His refusal was flat and calm. "Stop fighting and answer me."

She couldn't do either one, and she began to panic, not because she feared Kurosaki, but because she didn't want to talk about her marriage to Kaien Shiba, didn't want to think about it, didn't want to revive that hell even in memory. But Kurosaki, damn his stubborn temperament, had fastened on the subject and wouldn't drop it until he got what he wanted. She knew him, knew he intended to drag every detail out of her, and she simply couldn't face it.

Sheer survival instinct made her suddenly relax in his arms, sinking against him, clutching his shoulders instead of pushing against them. She felt his entire body tighten convulsively at her abrupt capitulation; her own muscles quivered with acute relief, as if she had been forcing them to an unnatural action. Her breath caught jerkily as her hips settled against his and she felt the thick ridge of his sex. His arousal was so familiar, and unbearably seductive. The lure of his sexuality pulled her even closer, her loins growing heavy and taut with desire.

He felt the change in her, saw it mirrored almost instantly in her face. One moment she had been struggling against him, and the next she was shivering in carnal excitement, her body tense as she moved against him in subtle demand. He cursed, his voice thick, as he tried to fight his own response. It was a losing battle; he had wanted her too intensely, for too long. Talking would have to wait; for now, she had won. All he could think about was that she was finally in his arms again, every small movement signaling eager compliance. He didn't know what changed her mind, and at this moment he didn't particularly care. It was enough that she was once again clinging to him, as she had the one night they had spent together here in this very room, the night that was burned into his memory. He had tossed restlessly through a lot of dark, sleepless hours since then, remembering how it had been and aching for the same release, needing her beneath him, bewildered by and angry at her sudden coldness.

There was nothing cold about her now. He could feel her heat, feel her vibrating under his hands. Her hips moved in an ancient search, and a low moan hummed in her throat as she found what she had sought, her legs parting slightly to nestle his hard sex between them.

Fiercely, he thrust his hand into her hair and pulled her head back.

"Do you want this?" he asked hoarsely, hanging on to his control with grim concentration.

It had happened so abruptly that he wanted to make sure before another second had passed, before she moved again and launched him past the point of no return. He hadn't felt like this since he'd been a teenager, the tide of desire rising like floodwaters in his veins, drowning thought. God, he didn't care what had caused her to change; right now, all he wanted was to thrust into her.

For a second she didn't answer, and his teeth were already clenching against a curse when she dug he nails into his shoulder and said, "Yes."

Her senses whirled dizzily as he lowered her to the floor, right where they stood.

"The sofa…" she murmured, but then his weight came down on top of her and she didn't care anymore.

Her initial tactic had been a panicked effort to distract him, but her own desire had blindsided her, welling up and overwhelming her senses so swiftly that she had no defense against it. She had hungered for him for so long, lying awake during the long, dark nights with silent tears seeping from beneath her lids because she missed him so much, almost as much as she feared him –and herself. The relief of being in his arms again was almost painful, and she pushed away all the reasons why this shouldn't happen. She would face the inevitable later; for now, all she wanted was Ichigo Kurosaki.

He was rough, his own hunger too intense, too long denied, for him to control it. He shoved her skirt up to her waist and dragged her panties down, and Rukia willingly opened her thighs to receive him. He dealt just as swiftly with his pants, and then brought his loins up to hers. His penetration was hard and stabbing, she cried out at the force of it. Her hips arched, accepting, taking him deeper. A guttural sound vibrated in his wide chest; then he caught the backs of her thighs, pulling her legs higher, and he began thrusting hard and fast.

She loved it. She reveled in it. She cried out at the strong release that pulsed through her immediately, the staggering physical response that she had known only with this man and thought that she would never experience again. She had been willing to give up this physical ecstasy in order to protect herself from his dominance, but oh, how she had longed for it, and bitterly wondered why the most dangerous traps and the sweetest bait.

Blinded by the ferocity of his need, he anchored her writhing hips with his hands and pounded into her. Dazedly she became aware of the hard floor beneath her, bruising her shoulders, but even as her senses were recovering from their sensual battering and allowing her to take stock of her surroundings, he gripped her even harder and convulsed explosively. Instinctively, she held him, cradling him with arms and legs, and the gentle clasp of her inner warmth. His harsh, strained cries subsided to low, rhythmic moans, then finally to fast and uneven breathing as he relaxed on top of her, his heavy weight pressing her to the floor.

The silence that hung in the air was only broken by the erratic intake and release of their breathing. His slowing heartbeat thudded heavily against her breasts, and their heated bodies melded together everywhere that bare flesh touched bare flesh.

"Rukia?"

She didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to face reality just yet, didn't want to have to let him go, that was something reality would force her to do.

He lifted himself on his elbows, and she could feel the penetrating amber gaze on her face, but still she clung to the safety of her closed eyes.

_How could I have been so stupid?_

_Alone with him for little more than an hour, and I had sex with him on the floor like an uncontrolled animal._

She couldn't even blame it on him; no, _she _had made the big move, grabbing at him, pushing her hips at him, because she had panicked when he had tried to pull back and begin asking questions again. She had gotten exactly what she had asked for. She felt confused; both ashamed and elated. She was ashamed that she had used sex as an evasion tactic…or maybe she was ashamed that she had used it as an _excuse_ to do what she had been longing to do anyway. The physical desire she felt for him was sharp and strong, so urgently demanding that stopping felt unnatural, all of her instincts pushing her toward him, her body now feeling warm and weak with satisfaction, faintly trembling in the aftermath.

"Okay, let's try it this way. I'll tell you about my marriage if you tell me about yours. No evasion tactics. I'll answer any question you ask."

Her eyes flew open. "_Your _marriage?" She stared at him in shock.

He smiled smugly and kissed her softly on the lips, "Yes." She felt his genital rise and push against hers, "But not until I'm through with you."

She sighed dreamily as her body responded, sending wave after wave of sweet desire, rolling heavily like the tides of the ocean. She kissed him back passionately.

_This is going to be a long night._

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**Author's Notes**

I don't even know what to say. Lol.

I'm not a romance writer, but I just felt compelled to write this oneshot because I realized that many of the readers who left reviews for Burichi are IchiRuki fans.

So, for all my IchiRuki readers out there: You're welcome! Lol.

Anyway, as always, remember to leave a review! I absolutely love getting feedback from the readers, to be honest; it motivates me to write more.

And look out for Chapter 3 of Burichi coming out soon!


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